


Being Human

by FallingInAForest



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Bi Jeremy, Gay Michael, Insecure Michael, M/M, Michael has a single mom, That I will write later, Trans Michael, Trans Rich, lots of tags, oof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-21 15:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingInAForest/pseuds/FallingInAForest
Summary: Michael just wanted to be himself: Michael. Not the girl everyone believed him to be, which creates a crossroads, that causes him to come to the realization that he needs to come out, and if not to the whole world, at least to Jeremy, his best friend.





	Being Human

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Back at it again with a whole new story that probably has no good material, but that I'll post anyway!

Every morning brought forth the same routine for Michaela. She'd get ready for school by throwing on baggy hoodies and jeans, then staring at herself in the mirror.  
  
Michaela would stare and stare, but nothing ever changed. Her body stayed the same. Sure, it was an hourglass figure like any girls dream, but that was the problem. Often times, she'd find herself wishing she could be built differently, like... like Jeremy. Or like Jake. Or even Rich.  
  
She felt alone, like nobody would understand what she was feeling. Which was probably true, because she didn't really understand it either. All she knew is that she hated the way she looked, and she was repulsed when people considered her a "her." She felt more like a he. She- or he rather, even started call in himself Michael in his head, rather than Michaela. It was a small difference, only a letter. But it made a big difference.  
  
It made him feel more real. Like he actually fit, not like he was a defensive role playing offense in a soccer game, or vice versa.  
  
Finally, his mom called, "Michaela! Breakfast time."  
  
He cringed slightly at the name, but it's not like he told anyone it made him feel uncomfortable. What could he even say? Sorry mom, but your daughters actually a son? No. He couldn't do that.  
  
Not forgetting to grab his signature red headphones, he walked upstairs and sat down at the table, his mom preparing his plate.  
  
"So, how is school going sweetie?" She asked, looking expectantly at him.  
  
"It's going okay," Michael(a) said blandly, trying not to prolong the conversation.  
  
It's not that he didn't know his mom asked because she cared, but more so that he wanted to protect her. Mom's usually felt as though even the smallest issue made everything terrible. Obviously, if Michael's mom found out he was maybe sort-of getting bullied at school, she would freak out.  
  
Michael guessed she did it because she felt the responsibility of two parents, as she was the only one around.  
  
"Okay, any cute boys?" His mom asked, trying to make more smalltalk.  
  
"No," Michael responded, and realized that talking about boys was the only thing that made him feel normal. Because even though he labeled himself as a boy, he still liked boys, just as he was "supposed to."  
  
"Not even Jeremy?" She teased.  
  
"Mom! Don't even go there," Michael said, although his brain definitely had gone there before, but remained inconclusive. He had decided to put off liking anyone until he was a he to the world, which at this rate wasn't anytime soon.  
  
By this point, Michael's plate had been placed in front of him and he began eating as his mother started to load the dishwasher.  
  
When he was finished, he rinsed off his plate and placed it in the dishwasher as well, before closing it and starting it. Afterwards, he grabbed his backpack and left, calling, "BYE MOM."  
  
On the way to the bus stop, Michael put his headphones over his ears and listened to music. A song that particularly reached home was one called _The Spectrum_ by Boyinaband, and suddenly everything felt like too much.  
  
_Michaela, Michaela, Michaela, Michaela._  
  
That's who he was to everyone else. But on the inside, he was a completley different person. He couldn't lie to them anymore. He just couldn't. Especially not to Jeremy, who had been his best friend since kindergarten.  
  
Sure, everyone says that that's the year it's so easy to make friends, because all you had to do was ask, but in all reality kids are even more judgy than teenagers. Kindergarteners would definitely speak their mind if you let them, and the results probably wouldn't be pretty.  
  
Somewhere in those thoughts, Michael arrived at his bus stops and shortly after his bus arrived, so he hopped on, walking to the back to find Jeremy, who's stop was the previous one.  
  
Eventually, Michael sat in the seat next to his, and said. "Hey, Jer."  
  
"Hey, Mic," Jeremy greeted with a smile. He was usually smiling in the morning, as Michael had noticed, because he was a natural morning bird, unlike Michael, who was more of a night owl.  
  
After that, they didn't talk much on the bus, as Jeremy respected this time as Michael's thinking/nap time, since sleep didn't come easy to him.  
  
When the bus ride was over, however, they began their strange conversations, which weren't necessarily strange all the time, but for the most part that was their branding.  
  
"You still listening to Marley?" Jeremy asks, grabbing Michael's headphones to check. But the thing was, Michael was very much so not listening to Bob Marley, but in fact listening toto something called _I Wish You Liked Girls_ , by Abbey Glover, and if Jeremy listened to it, he would most likely jump to the conclusion that Michael was a lesbian, which would not be farther from the truth.  
  
And so Michael grabbed them back, because he hated the thought with all his might.  
  
"Sorry," Jeremy said, even though he had grabbed Michael's headphones without issues countless times before. That was the thing with Jeremy. He was always so understanding of everything, especially if he didn't understand it.  
  
That's another reason why Jeremy is the first person Michael wants to tell. Because he'd understand, somehow.  
  
"It's okay," Michael replied, because it was. It really was. It was Michael who was having issues, not Jeremy. And Jeremy was just getting the backend of it without knowing the cause. It wasn't fair to him. Michael knew that, but... still. That didn't make it any easier to build up the courage to do so.  
  
Or maybe it did. Or maybe it _could_ at least.  
  
"Hey, Jeremy?" Michael asked as they were still walking up the long, winding sidewalk that stretched from the area the busses let off to the entrance of the school.  
  
"Yeah?" He asked nonchalantly, as though Michael's whole world wasn't on the line.  
  
"Wanna come over after school?"  
  
"Sounds like a plan," Jeremy agreed, and Michael smiled, because this could be the last time Jeremy even talks to him. The last time they joke around. The last time they do anything together.  
  
And suddenly, Michael realized that he hated that he had to feel like this. Nobody should have to feel like they are going to lose everything because of how they are. And this was how Michael was... _Michael_.  
  
But hating and wishing didn't change a damn thing. Michael had hated how his dad left, and wished that his parents could work it out, but that hadn't changed anything either.  
  
So he would deal with it. That's what most of life was about anyways, right?  
  
"Mic _._ Mic! _Michaela!_ " Jeremy called, making Michael realize that he must've spaced out, lost in his own suffocating world.  
  
"Yeah?" He managed, sounding slightly off, but normal for the most part.  
  
"What's stolen your attention?" Jeremy asked in response, looking at Michael as if to determine what was causing him to space out.  
  
"Nothing," Michael said immediately. "I mean, I'm just thinking."  
  
"About anything in particular?" Jeremy asked, and then stopped walking. Michael was confused at first, but then realized that they had arrived at their usual place to hang out in the morning.  
  
"Yeah, there's something," Michael admits, but doesn't elaborate.  
  
And Jeremy doesn't push the topic. He never did. That's just not how he was.  
  
"Hey, Jeremy?" Michael asked, in a voice quieter than usual.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Is there anything that I could say or do that would make us stop being friends?"  
  
"Of course not," Jeremy said, looking concerned as to why that question would ever be asked.  
  
"Dammit, Jer, I need you to give me an actual answer," Michael said, obviously knowing that Jeremy's mind wouldn't go where his was, but that didn't mean he didn't have the urge to ask.  
  
With Michael's sudden standoffish attitude, Jeremy realized that he should come up with some sort of answer, "I guess if you shot up the school or started saying homophobic things all of the time, since I'm bi. Other than that, I swear I can't think of anything. You're my best friend. It would take a whole lot to change that."  
  
"Okay," Michael says in response, which'll only run the conversation dry, but he doesn't care.  
  
And so the two stand in silence for their remaining couple of minutes before the warning bell rings, which leaves them with nothing to do but to head to class, which for Jeremy is on the left side of the school, and for Michael is on the right.  
  
-O-  
  
"Mrs. Tock, can I go to the bathroom?" Michael asked, after the lesson was given.  
  
"Sure, Michaela, just be quick about it," She answered, not bothering to even look up, focusing on her computer.  
  
"Thank you," Michael said, and headed to the restroom. Before he could enter the stall, however, he noticed someone in the bathroom: Rich Goranski.  
  
"Rich?" Michael asked, very confused, as this was the girls bathroom.  
  
"Fuck," Rich said immediately, looking panicked, and then angry. Not at Michael, but more so at himself.  
  
"What are you doing in here?"  
  
Rich looked as though he was going to say something, but changed his mind and instead decided on, "What's it to you?"  
  
And that's when it seemed to hit the both of them. Staring at each other, studying each other's facial expressions and noticing things they hadn't before, they realized that they were more similar than they could've ever imagined.  
  
"Rich...?" Michael says after a while.  
  
"Yeah?" He answers, easing up.  
  
"Does it get any easier?"  
  
"When you start living the way you actually are," Rich says, letting out a breath. "That doesn't mean it gets easy. Just easier."  
  
"I'll take easier anyday," Michael says quietly.  
  
"And when I see the new you, what shall I call him?" Rich asks.  
  
"Michael," Michael says, and immediately feels weight off of his shoulders. He finally said it out loud. His name. His _real_ name.  
  
"It'll be a pleasure to meet him," Rich says, walking out with a smile on his face, that Michael knows the origin of. Because it's a good feeling when you know you're not alone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Opinions? Completley unrelated comments? Please, be my guest, and comment below!


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